


i didn't dream of you

by shadowdance



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Canon Compliant, M/M, takes place before and after the final battle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-26
Updated: 2018-10-26
Packaged: 2019-08-08 02:42:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16420841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadowdance/pseuds/shadowdance
Summary: ("Promise me you won't sacrifice yourself.")They're two halves of a great whole, but there are some choices Robin has to make on his own.





	i didn't dream of you

i.

 

“Robin,” Chrom says. His eyes are dark, a serious note to the syllables of Robin’s name. Robin looks up, dog-earing the page in his book.

“Yes?”

Chrom swallows, and it strikes Robin how nervous he is. Chrom has never been the idea of a dashing prince, of course, but there’s seriousness carved in him now, something that makes him look both solemn and ridiculous. Chrom is a rather easygoing man, after all; seeing him look so grave makes Robin stand on edge.

“You’re not going to—” Chrom starts, and then he pauses, mulls over his words. “Promise me you aren’t going to sacrifice yourself.”

If he has to say it twice, it means he didn’t believe Robin at the start. Robin doesn’t blame him; he doesn’t even believe himself. He can’t lie to Chrom, doesn’t want to, but—

_Choose: the world, or your life._

The answer is as clear as day to Robin; the moment the choice presented itself, he knew which one he would pick. It is easy to lay it all on the table; being a tactician, he thinks strategically, and the second option is better in that regard. The world will be saved at the cost of one life.

But he looks at Chrom’s eyes and sees—he is half of Chrom’s world. If he dies, Chrom’s world might splinter apart. Chrom will carry on—he has to, as the Exalt—but it doesn’t mean that Robin’s sacrifice won’t ruin a part of him.

Maybe that is what Robin would’ve wanted, in another world, but that is not this world. The last thing Robin would ever want to do is ruin Chrom.

So Robin says, “I won’t. Don’t worry.” Only two words, but they weigh on his tongue like the weight of the world. Still, he adds, “I promise I won’t sacrifice myself. Stop worrying, Chrom.”

Chrom’s face smoothens out in a sweet smile. It makes Robin squirm with guilt; he hates breaking promises to Chrom, yet here he is, offering an empty one up.

“Okay,” Chrom says brightly, “I believe you.”

The guilt sinks deep into Robin’s chest, burying itself there. It astounds him, how well he can lie to Chrom, and how easily Chrom will take it.

 

 

ii.

 

Robin has secrets, Chrom knows, but he is not the only one.

Chrom has his own, buried deep in his heart. He pretends that they are nothing, that if Robin were to press he would share, but he knows that isn’t true. Robin  _wouldn’t_ press, not when it comes to Chrom; that’s the one thing he has never done. It’s aching when Chrom does it, because Robin wouldn’t.

The secrets that Chrom keep from Robin are fairly straightforward, and all of them are truths.  _I love you, I don’t want you to leave me; please stay with me, we are two halves of a greater whole_. All things he has said in his life, which doesn’t really make them secrets; but he’s told them to Robin, and Robin his other half. His better half, merely another piece of him; Robin hasn’t let a secret slip past him. Chrom has rarely thought about not telling Robin something, for the truth just comes naturally.

But the biggest secret Chrom has is something he wouldn’t let pass between his lips, not even to Robin:  _if it means keeping Robin alive, then I’ll gladly let him kill me._

It is selfish and cruel in the same breath, so Chrom keeps this secret stowed away inside of him. This would never happen, he tells himself. Logistically, Robin wouldn’t ask to kill him; it’s not strategic. And Chrom isn’t sure if he is able to forgive himself for this secret; he has Lucina and the rest of the Shepherds to think about. Lucina, who came back to rewrite time so he could live. The thought of dying, even if Robin is the one holding the blade, makes Chrom’s heart ache. It’s a twisted paradox in itself, so he tries not to think about that thought, that awful, horrible truth he would let happen.

But he watches Robin pace back and forth, hands rooting through his hair, and thinks of it anyway. If it means relieving Robin of the stress, of the world on his shoulders, Chrom would do it. He would.

But he is not that cruel. So Chrom stands there instead, biting his tongue, trying to swallow the lies that Robin keeps feeding him.

 

iii.

 

 

Chrom’s faith does not waver in Robin, the same way Lucina’s doesn’t in Naga. Chrom knows that Robin will make the decision; whether or not it is the  _right_  one or the  _selfish_ one is up to the tactician.

So when Robin shoves Chrom out of the way, throwing a lightning bolt into Grima’s six eyes, Chrom feels it in his own chest, sizzling and snapping, his heart slashed in two. Grima shrieks, and Robin starts to fade. His hands grow pale and translucent, fading like the sunset, and all Chrom can do is hold on, grasp at the fingertips as tightly as he can. He thinks,  _gods are not invincible_ , and squeezes Robin’s hand so tightly he thinks he might be cutting off circulation.

This isn’t the first time the thought has circled his brain, but it hasn’t come from watching Emmeryn fall, from Validar choking on his knees, not even from the stories Lucina told, about gods slain right before her eyes. All horrible, but Lucina’s stories confirmed what Chrom already knew.

It was from watching Robin late at night, fingers tearing out silver hair, eyes darting over plans that didn’t work, heavy breaths rattling his chest.  _I never meant to hurt them_ he’d say and Chrom knew he was talking about Lucina, about Morgan and all the other children.  _I never meant to hurt them._

This was before he found out he was Grima. This was about seeing Lucina grind her teeth and pick up that replica of Falchion, about seeing Lucina jump into the war again to rewrite history, about seeing Lucina fight for her life for an uncertain future, hanging in the balance.

Robin’s always liked plans, things that will draw out a certain outcome. He deviates from his course when he has to, but hearing the plan go awry, seeing Lucina with his own eyes made his jaw clench hard. When Morgan came, Robin hid in his tent so nobody would see him break.

Robin’s not a god, Chrom knows. He knew that back then, too. But it was as if Robin was this pillar of strength and calm and wisdom, and Chrom watched the tiny cracks appear, spreading slowly over the stone, cracking and groaning. He watched Robin start to sift and splinter into small pieces, just when Chrom thought Robin was unbreakable. When Robin found out he was Grima, it drove a crack straight in his heart, nearly shattering him, and it’s all he can do to keep himself together; not even Chrom can hold him up.

So now, clutching Robin’s fingertips as tightly as he can, Chrom thinks:  _you are not invincible._ He’s not sure who he’s talking about, maybe Grima or Robin or himself, maybe a mixture of all of them.

He watches Robin’s smile blur into nothing, until he’s holding nothing but his own palm, his fingers curling into a fist.

 

 

iv.

 

When Robin falls, memories whip by him.

He dreams of the stuff he remembers, of falling against Chrom’s back naturally, of holding a crackling thunder tome, of an ocean set on fire, of Naga speaking in her gentle tone, giving him his final fate. There are little moments there, too, like Lissa’s pranks and Frederick’s sighs and Chrom’s laughter, all background memories, more lighthearted and peaceful.

But there are memories there that don’t belong to him. He dreams of glowing red eyes, of a ruptured land and cracked desert; of Lucina, pointing Falchion at him with hatred in her eyes, of Risen rising form the cracks of the land, unbidden, overrunning the world’s population. Their eyes are sunken red, the same as his.

(These memories are from another past, but Robin pretends they are nothing but nightmares; nightmares cannot hurt him anymore.)

All the memories slip from his mind, from his fingers, and it scares him;  _I don’t want to forget you_. He tries to hold onto something, like Lucina’s rare smiles and Morgan’s sharp laughter, like Chrom’s unwavering bravery, but they all fade from his fingertips the moment he grabs them. They’re somewhere in the back of his mind, which is what keeps Robin calm. Everything in the darkness is calm.

He has no control over which memory plays, but the one that comes the most is Chrom’s first meeting: Lissa’s sharp insistence, Chrom’s warm smile, how his hand felt against Robin’s own. Every time the vision plays, Robin waits to come back into the world, to see Frederick frowning at him, to drink in every last detail of the first Shepherds. Every time, he falls back into darkness.

Until—

The grass underneath him feels real, tickling his skin. The glare of the sun hurts his eyes, until a shadow falls over his body. This close, Robin swears it’s real. He doesn’t think he could ever imagine the traces of relief curved into Chrom’s face.

“Give me your hand,” Chrom says, as he always does.

When his lips brush against Robin’s calloused hands, Robin knows he’s home.

**Author's Note:**

> me: i'm pretty ambivalent to chrobin, i don't really care  
> also me: they're married, try and change my mind


End file.
